Divine
by Lunamaria
Summary: She saw the devil in his eyes and he saw an angel in hers. – OletteReno


**DIVINE **  
you've never tasted love, but it's not too late  
_o_**re**n_o _

**Y**ou watch him from the other end of the room with what you like to call "Skill & Precision", but it's really only being too afraid to look him in his large, worldly orbs. You're afraid that if you awe at them for too long that you will far so hard that you'll never get home. You can hear him in your ear whispering, "It's too late… you've fallen." Only, he's on the other end with no recollection of the times when you've lived in each other's eyes for mere seconds.

Oh, but no, it's not his fault. Quite frankly, you know it's yours and there is nothing you can do. You're only boring, plain, safe, smart, serious, practical Orette. You would never associate yourself with the crimson devil who perches himself next to gorgeous, older woman who flaunt themselves at him. You would never have anything to do with the red risk-taker at the end of the room who presses tongues with woman, and takes them home at night, and you're sure that in the morning he doesn't remember their names and comes back again to find another woman to play with the next night.

No, not you, for even though you're a lovely **girl **at eighteen, the ones he has eyes (oh those fantastic, worldly eyes) for are **women**. And there are galaxies between children and women. After all, at the end of the day… you're only a **child**.

You've seen him look at your lonely end of the room occasionally though, but he only looks for a moment because you are much too young for the untamable Reno, and you are much to _Orette_. Your friends, and other people wonder why you come to this restaurant every night, and by yourself. Former boyfriend, Roxas, worries about you but you just tell him to" back off", because it was he who broke you heart, and the ironic thing in the end was that you never really **loved **him. Not like you **love** Reno though. Oh no, it's much different. He is what your naïve eyes see in every moment. You're so in love with that boy that it hurts, and you can't even muster up some false courage and dumb words to talk to him. You could never impress his worldly eyes, because your eyes are the eyes of children.

You watch him leave another night with another woman, and she gives you a dirty look like she noticed how much you were watching her man on the other side of the room. Strangely, you can relate with this woman's jealousy; you live it every night. You know one thing that she doesn't know though; he will only be hers till sunrise & then he belongs to another.

He is yours from dawn to dusk, but he's a free spirit and doesn't attach himself to any one person. He is a free person, something plain, safe Orette sort of admires about him. No logic in your mind can quite help her understand what it is about him that attracts you so strongly. After all, nothing about you is anything like him. You are clean, well kept, well liked and responsible. He is unruly, rigid and gives off a devilish smile that burns into your heart. He is so experienced, and you are so naïve.

Still, something about his blazing hair, and forest-ocean eyes, and oh those devilish gestures bring you back to the same table every night to watch him if for only a little more. Yes, there is another woman again tonight, you notice. Only this night you try to think about this practically in your mind: Is it the revealing clothing that women wear that attracts him? You thought about it all last night, and with a reluctant decision, you rid yourself of your safe orange apparel for one night to slip into a dress you borrowed from your mother.

You figure you have enough as far as looks go. You are a beautiful, youthful girl and surely the right clothing can catch the devils eye. You are a bit embarrassed as you attract looks from around the room from men, and for once you are recognized as a **woman**. How was it possible that you would not be, dressed in an orange strapless dress that barely reaches the end of your thighs, and is a tight fit to your curves? It's so out of character, and you know, but for him you'll do anything.

He doesn't look your way all nigh, and your head drops, and your heart hurts. At the end of the night, you watch him get up; you're ready to call it quits and go back to your safe apparel, your safe appearance that you so very much prefer. When he walks towards the exit door, with his girl on arm, with a sort of elegant touch, his forest-ocean orbs are ice when he does look at you.

It's the longest he's ever looked at you and puts your body at stop; you're frozen in this state you just can't believe. You almost have to cease you emerald eyes from his. Almost. He gives you a smirk and is out the door once more, and your heart drops. Why must you fantasize about his intricate eyes every night? About his deep eyes that keep you fearing of falling, and drowning? Why must you not be his, even if for only one night?

You, without noticing for many moments passed, see the waitress set a thin piece of leaf stationary with some overly done swirl pattern on the outsides onto your table. Some few lines of quickly written cursive are inked onto the stationary, and cautiously, you begin to read.

_Dear, lovely Orette.  
I am disappointed of you tonight.  
No men's eyes should be on you but mine. _

_Love, Reno. _

She feels both silly and excited at this point. How could she have lowered herself so, and finally she gets the realization that she is more than a girl- more than a conservative, safe, _lovely_ girl with eyes that are inexperienced and naïve.

For once, she is beautiful.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
**LOVE, RENO**  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _  
_

It hits you like a scent of nostalgia as you are once again seated at the table. You think, so secretly to yourself, that this must be some act of **divinity** that not only has he actually seen you before but also somehow he has required the knowledge of your name. You are still not sure if you mistook the note, but you don't care, because he actually took the time to write you a few sentences or sloppy cursive that you are so in love with. This night you have given up trying to appeal him with revealing clothing and redeemed yourself to your old clothing, which apparently has worked just fine.

At the end of the room, you see two eyes, like cats and they are look towards you in a fashion that you do not recognize. Two worldly eyes. Instead of a devilish look they have a soft glow to them that makes you smile; they are simply so **divine**. For once, unattainable Reno is so… child like, it makes you smile. You see him alone tonight, no tasteless girl on his arm, no need for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The only things tonight in his arms are a bouquet of unusual orange flowers & _you_…

In the morning he mutters out "Orette," and finally he remembers the name of someone, even surprising himself. You smile as well, for his eyes are still those of a child, but oh they are still so worldly you could cry. For every night, for many nights, the same routine is carried out, and he finds himself thrust into your world, as you were his,

As if by some **divine **power is making sure you get the taste of love from him. Now there are a set of toothbrushes, slippers, robes and other things left handy in his apartment because there is certainly a use for them, and most nights you and he just skip going to the restaurant, because finally a devil & an angel have found each other,

for a world of their own.

— ·· L u n a m a r i a

Oreno — Oreo  
xD

Sokay, I can't convey to you in words how much I absolutely **hate** this.  
I didn't spend too much time writing this. I know, why am I posting this if I hate it?  
I have this thing that I post everything I write, but then I can delete it later depending on how others like it.  
This story sucks & kicked my butt.  
**  
Luna Vs. Divine** — Divine wins!

Thanks for reading, anyhow.

© Disney, Squaresoft. I own **nothing**.


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